Page 140 of It Should Have Been You

But I wasn’t trapped in a tower somewhere in need of rescuing. I grew up loved and protected.

I was one of the lucky ones.

I was going to jump right to the happily ever after.

But those dark shadows linger. They don’t make themselves known until it’s too late and sometimes a knight in shining armor is simply a monster in disguise. A disease eager to dig its claws into an unsuspecting mind. To infect.

I look back at my once upon a time and wonder how I didn’t see the villain in my story until it was too late.

He blinded me with the good, and my vision only cleared in the darkness.

He allowed me to see who he really was when the lights went off. That smile everyone adored—the one I adored—suddenly changed. His pupils dilated, spreading out over irises until all I could see was black. I could see my future in those eyes. My punishment.

And in the second it would take him to change, I would rack my brain wondering what I did wrong that night. Did I smile at someone I shouldn’t have? Did I smile for too long? Did I drink too much? But that was impossible because I wasn’t allowed to drink. Maybe I didn’t answer a question in the right way?

He’s dead. I know it. They buried him, and he can’t hurt me. But I can’t escape the nightmares.

It’s not every night, but sometimes, because living with it obviously wasn’t punishment enough, I close my eyes and he’s there, doling out kicks like he’ll never tire, squeezing a hand around bruised ribs while I’m cooking dinner just to keep me in check, pinning me to the bed when I said no.

A tear leaks from the corner of my eye before lulling on my chin and falling onto my lap. I wipe it away to feel my cheeks are soaked.

I always find those are the saddest tears. Not the ones you can’t breathe through or the ones you know are coming. It’s these ones. The ones when you’re trying to live, and they flow down your face without even knowing it. They don’t consider that you’re just trying to move on. That you’re trying to numb.

I wish the girls were here. I wish they were jumping on my bed, smothering me with hugs and kisses because they fill the void.

Pulling my robe tighter around my waist, I shiver as the morning air seeps into my bones. I’ve always loved the summer chill, so I open the double doors in the kitchen and stare up at the trees as they sway in the gentle breeze.

Logan.

He’s home.

He had been gone on a fishing trip with his brothers and Skip for Skip’s birthday. I’m surprised to see him home so early.

“What are you doing?”

Already unloading supplies from the truck, he merely spares me a quick glance and a half smirk before continuing where he left off. “Morning, pretty girl.”

I wrap my robe tighter around my waist. “It’s eight in the morning. Why are you back already? And what are you doing in my yard with… wood?”

He stills, barking a quiet laugh on my expense as heat rushes up my neck.

Morning wood.

Right.

He’s a child.

“Technically,” he pulls more supplies from the truck before running a hand through his hair, “It’s my side of the yard.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest because there’s not enough heat in the sun yet, and I’m not wearing a bra.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“The girls are still at your sister’s, right?”

It’s eight in the morning. Of course they are.

I nod, eyeing him as he finally stands still to look at me.

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